


18th Floor Balcony

by TheOtherWinchester



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2019-08-06 11:37:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16387064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOtherWinchester/pseuds/TheOtherWinchester
Summary: John and Sherlock have to get closer to their suspect’s comfort zone. Who would’ve thought that that would lead to them finding their own?





	18th Floor Balcony

**Author's Note:**

> I was given the prompt of the song 18th Floor Balcony by Blue October and the pairing of Johnlock. This is what I came up with.

John and Sherlock had rented a room in a little known hotel on the outskirts of London, to get closer to the scene of a kidnapping case that they were pursuing. Although Sherlock estimated it would only take a few days to find the missing person, John rented the room for the whole week. Sherlock was right, of course, it had only taken four days to find the missing person; a middle-aged man by the name of Phil Shifley. They still had three non-refundable days at the hotel after they freed Mr. Shifley, so they milked it for all it was worth and decided to take a small vacation. 

The vacation was well-earned and considering it was only a couple of days, even Sherlock didn’t have a reason to complain. Although, he found one anyway. “I’m so bored! I need something to do, John! Find me something. Find me a case!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sherlock woke up, and slowly took in his surroundings. He stretched the left side of his body; the side not weighed down by his sleeping friend. He looked down at the snoozing blond in his arms and smiled, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath just soaking it all in. His best friend, some would go so far as to argue only friend, was now sleeping in his arms and he couldn’t be any more content. John yawned and moved in closer to Sherlock, opening his eyes only after his nose collided with the brunette’s collar bone, causing the curly haired man to giggle. Sherlock wrapped himself around John like an octopus, his chin resting on his shoulder. John couldn’t help but crack a smile, which led to a contented sigh. In this new position, every time John exhaled, it ran across Sherlock’s hair. 

“I really hate to interrupt this, but your stomach’s growling. I could make some breakfast, if you like.” John said. 

“I guess breakfast doesn’t sound horrible” Sherlock answered, reluctantly letting go of John. 

John walked into the small kitchen, a groggy Sherlock in tow. “Do pancakes sound alright? They’re kind of my specialty.” 

“Yeah. Pancakes sound good.” Sherlock yawned, while grabbing the tea kettle. He filled it with water and set it on the stove. He grabbed measuring cups, a big mixing bowl, flour and sugar from the cupboards above the stove and John grabbed everything else, including a whisk and a pan. When John grabbed the cinnamon and chocolate chips, he was greeted with a weary look from the detective. “It’ll give it an extra kick. You’ll see.”, he stated. 

Sherlock spread butter on the pan and poured two glasses of tea when the kettle started whistling. He got out of John’s way by setting the table, which was more of a small bar. He grabbed the cream, sugar, and maple syrup, setting it in the middle of the bar. He had to reach around John to grab two forks and two butter-knives, which he set next to the plates before sitting down.

“Breakfast is served.” John said as he placed the pancakes on the edge of the bar, the only place where there was room. He was amused by the look on Sherlock’s face, as his eyes saw what John brought to eat. 

“John, what are these?” he asked, prodding one with his fork. 

“They’re pancakes. They’re happy to see you, mate.” John answered, chuckling at Sherlock who was still prodding at the same one. Sherlock scoffed at John’s reply, which didn’t faze the doctor in the least. The pancakes all had faces, two eyes and a smile, so they were happy to see the pair, indeed. 

“That’s kind of morbid for breakfast, isn’t it? Why would they be happy to get eaten?” Sherlock asked, finally fishing two onto his plate and pouring some syrup on them.   
“Maybe they’re happy their lives are being cut short because it means that they no longer have to be around you. Sherlock, just eat the food.” John answered taking a sip of tea and plopping three smiling pancakes onto his plate. 

“Fine, but I doubt that anything would be happy to be digested.” Sherlock retorted, taking a bite. The rest of the meal was pleasant, with only conversation about how the case went and how Mrs. Hudson was probably doing at the flat, considering she didn’t have two men to look after. 

After they were both satiated, they put everything back and John washed the dishes while Sherlock played the violin. After he finished cleaning up the kitchen area, John went into the living room and grabbed a book he’d been reading for a couple days, opening it up to where he left off after laying on the couch. It was some adventure book that Sherlock never gave a second thought to because his entire life was an adventure. 

This was how they both liked it. The fact that neither of them were speaking didn’t make things awkward at all. On the contrary, it felt so normal and so domestic that they couldn’t help feeling comfortable. 

“What time do you want to check out tomorrow?” John asked, causing Sherlock to stop dead in the middle of a song. 

“I forgot tomorrow is Sunday.” Sherlock answered. ‘And that we have to leave.’ he thought to himself. 

“We need to check out by noon,” John said “I was thinking we could leave by 9:00 and get back home to the flat a little after 10:00.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Sherlock answered, starting to play again. 

John thought he heard some reluctance in his friend’s voice, but he decided that he must’ve been imagining it. John liked it here. It was tranquil and private and so lovely, but that probably had to do with how affectionate the detective had become. 

Secretly, the brunette didn’t want to leave either. He would get bored and want a case eventually, but until then he was happy being with John. Being alone with him and together in every way. He would miss it. “Hey, do you want to go out for lunch?” Sherlock inquired.

“I thought you’d never ask.” John answered enthusiastically. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Their lunch turned into a night on the town. They ate at a quaint little restaurant a few blocks from the hotel. The outside was decorated with a green round front and a white, windowed door, already propped open with a small wooden block. As soon as they walked in they could smell a mixture of food and candles. There were only a few tables, and it looked like quite the romantic place for platonic meetups. The restaurant served comfort food along with specialty items, but they both ordered a simple meal of fish and chips with tea as a beverage. The conversation was kept low so nobody else could overhear what they were saying. To anyone passing by it looked like a couple of people discussing some very classified information, which it was in a sense, but really all they were doing was flirting like a high school couple that got away from the overbearing parents for ten minutes. 

After they finished their meal they decided to go exploring some more and they came across a rather large museum. They went in and they got lost in the Ancient Egyptian section, which surprisingly didn’t have a model pyramid, but it did have a sphinx. John most enjoyed the paintings and sculptures all throughout the museum, while his partner preferred the numerous displays of strange anatomy. When they finally found their way out of the museum, it was nearly time for dinner, so they decided to go to another restaurant rather than make something at the hotel. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*

When they finally got back to the hotel it was almost 10:00, and Sherlock took off his coat, threw it on the couch and then plopped down on the bed; his arms at his sides, taking up the entire mattress. John followed his lead, but was a little apprehensive about joining his colleague. He tip-toed into the room and sat on the edge of the bed, leaning back slowly until his head landed on Sherlock’s stomach. The detective fell asleep almost instantly, but his companion put up a valiant fight before his eyelids won out. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*

They woke up the next morning around 8:30. It gave them enough time to pack everything and take a shower before heading back to Baker Street. When they got back to the flat, Mrs. Hudson greeted them with a homemade apple pie. They chatted with her for a couple of hours, mainly just talking about the case and how they cracked it and caught the culprit. Mrs. Hudson had to go to the market after a while though, because she had stuff to get and other errands to run. She left them with what was left of the pie and bid farewell before walking out into the mid afternoon sunshine. 

After they settled back into the apartment, Sherlock actually helped unpack, the detective plopped down on the couch and turned on the telly looking for some entertainment. John made sure everything was where it belonged before he went and joined his friend on the couch, his head resting on Sherlock’s chest. “Things are different now, aren’t they?” he asked. “Between us, I mean.” he added as an afterthought. 

“Yes, John. Things are different. They’re better.” Sherlock answered, playing with the doctor’s hair. 

“I understand if you don’t want to go public with this.” the blond stated matter-of-factly. 

“It’s not that I’m ashamed John, not even close. I just...” the brunette was looking for the right words, and for once they were evading him. “ I just want you to be safe and if we went public, you’d be in even more danger then you already are.” 

“I know.” he answered, snuggling closer. “Sometimes I wish you wouldn’t worry so much.”

The detective chuckled and kissed his roommate, relishing the moment. “I always worry about you, love.”


End file.
